Page 82 of Lord of the Dark

The car rolled forward slowly before disappearing through the massive gates. For a moment, I held my breath, as if by clinging to that last glimpse of him, I could keep the final remnants of him inside me. But the gates closed again with a soft, mechanical hum, mercilessly announcing: He was gone.

I blinked, the driveway in front of me blurring slightly, but I refused to let the tears come. I pressed my palms against the steering wheel, searching for an anchor, anything to keep me from collapsing in on myself. The minutes dragged. The car grew hotter under the scorching afternoon sun, but I felt none of it. Everything inside me was cold. A sharp, icy pain spreading slowly from my chest to my fingertips.

I couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

Alessandro had built a wall, an impenetrable fortress, behind which I could only vaguely make out the shadows of last night’s memories. Memories that now lay inside me like jagged shards. Itried to focus on my breathing—inhale, exhale—but every breath felt like poison flooding my lungs.

My chest rose and fell, but the air was never enough. My gaze drifted to the now-closed gates, as if staring long enough could summon him back. But there was nothing. Just the shimmer of hot air and the wavering shadows of palm trees. A tremor ran through my hands, over my shoulders, down to my legs. Not visible, but I felt it deep inside—a restlessness building like a wave, threatening to swallow me whole.

I pressed my lips together, forcing myself to stay still even as everything inside me screamed. The pain was a constant throb in my chest, a suffocating knot in my throat. But I couldn’t let it out. Wouldn’t. Because I knew if I gave in, I might never stop.

Why had he done this? Why had he treated me like a stranger? Why had he let me into his life at all if he could walk away this easily?

The questions raced through my mind, each one a fresh stab, deepening the pain. My thoughts clawed desperately for an answer, a clue, anything to explain what had just happened. But there was nothing. Just this unbearable emptiness, this silence eating me alive from the inside.

The first tear burned down my cheek, and I wiped it away quickly, as if that could undo it. But it was useless. Another followed, then another, until I couldn’t hold back anymore. A sob tore out of me, violent and uncontrolled. My hands trembled as I dropped them into my lap, powerless to steady them. The pain was a tidal wave, crushing me, dragging me under, stealing my breath.

Everything I knew about Alessandro, everything I’d felt for him, seemed meaningless in this moment. His words, his touches—they were like a dream that had dissolved into nothing with a single blow. And I, the fucking idiot, had even shown him Carter’s contract, laid my whole goddamn life bare before him.

"Bravo, Fiona. How fucking stupid can you be?" I snarled at myself.

The next tear burned against my skin, hot and mocking, but this time, I didn’t wipe it away. Instead, I let it fall, let it sharpen the cold inside me. I’d thought I was stronger. That no one, not even a man like Alessandro, could reach deep enough to destroy me like this.

But I’d let him.

A bitter laugh rose in my throat but got stuck, choked off by the shame threatening to suffocate me. How could I have been so stupid? How had I let him wrap me around his finger like that? His words, his touches—I'd swallowed them like truth, like something real that belonged only to us. But what had they really been? A game. A fucking, manipulative game where I was nothing more than a pawn on his chessboard.

I pressed my hands to my temples as if I could scrub away the memories—his touch, his smile, his voice. But they clung stubbornly, digging deeper into my mind, leaving me gasping for air. I forced myself to inhale slowly through my nose. I wouldn’t break. Not like this. Not for him.

My thoughts drifted to my mother—her sad smile, the hollow stare she’d fixed on the window when she thought no one was watching. I’d seen her suffering, year after year. How many times had I sworn I’d never become like her? Never give a man the power to hurt me like that? And yet here I sat, just as she had, letting one person tear me apart.

"No!" I snapped at myself. "No, this won’t happen."

I wiped the tears from my cheeks—not gently this time, but with a sharp, determined jerk. The pain was still there, pulsing in my ribs, but I refused to let it rule me. Hate began to rise in me, slow at first, then with a force that almost scared me. Hate for Alessandro and the cold ease with which he’d discarded me. Hate for his staggering arrogance, his complete lack of empathy.But most of all, hate for myself—for giving him this power over me. For letting him hurt me like this.

"Never again," I hissed under my breath, shaking my head as if I could fling the last traces of him out of me. "Never again will I give him that power."

I swallowed the last of my tears and gripped the steering wheel hard. If Alessandro Russo, that slimy bastard, thought he could break me like this, he was wrong. I’d erase him just as thoroughly as he’d erased me.

My mother had let her pain control her, wasted her life in fear, weakness, and grief. But me? I wouldn’t allow that. Not for him. Not for anyone.

I would forget him. Inside me burned a fire, scorching away every trace of doubt, longing, love. I let it rage. I fed it with every thought of him.

And one thing was certain: Never again would I give anyone that kind of power over me.

Twentyone

Fiona Robertson

3 weeks later

The airport was a sea of movement and voices, a constant ebb and flow dissolving into a mix of urgency and chaos. People rushed past me—some with determined strides, others with weary, dragging steps. The muffled rumble of suitcases rolling across polished floors and the crackling loudspeaker announcements calling for boarding formed the backdrop. But it all reached me as if through a veil, separating me from the outside world.

I stood beside Carter in the departure hall, my hand gripping the handle of my suitcase far too tightly to conceal the tension within me. My gaze wandered aimlessly across the display boards flashing with departures. Yet the words blurred before my eyes. Everything felt so distant, even though Carter stood mere inches away, lost in thought as he double-checked our flight details.

"Everything alright?" he asked suddenly, without lifting his eyes from the papers. His voice was calm, almost indifferent, and yet I felt a small sting at his question.

"Yes, of course," I replied mechanically, forcing a smile onto my lips that felt wrong. "Just a little nervous about the flight."

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